Out of the Darkness
by WeasleySeeker
Summary: As the Wizarding community start to leave the horrors of the Second Wizarding War behind them, it's really beginning to seem like there is a light at the end of the tunnel; a light that some people previously doubted the existence of.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Maddie (overstreets). Keep smiling, darling. :)_

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Unable to find the one person he really wanted to be with, Ron gave up and slumped into an armchair. He felt like he was invisible as the rest of Gryffindor house, old and new, made its way up to bed and left Ron by himself. He relished the silence; that, more than anything else, reminded him that the war was really over.

"Ron, mate, are you okay?" came Harry's concerned voice from afar.

Ron's eyes were brought back into focus as he saw that Harry and Ginny had entered the common room, which was now deserted other than them. They were holding hands, he noticed, and he surprised himself as his face instinctively relaxed into a smile. Despite his overprotective older-brotherly feelings, it made sense for him to be happy for them. He had never seen his sister, or his best friend, happier than they had been in those couple of months at the end of their sixth year. They deserved to be happy again, after all that both of them had been through.

"I'm fine," Ron assured him, realising that he had been staring blankly into space as the common room had emptied around him. "Just... thinking." There was a pause. Ron felt slightly guilty that Harry was worrying about him; Harry, of all people, deserved the chance to relax now. "Have either of you seen Hermione?" Ron asked hopefully.

Harry shook his head, and Ginny said, yawning, "I think she went up to bed a while ago. Which is where I really need to be now. See you in the morning," she said, kissing Harry quickly (despite giving them his blessing, Ron still had to look away for that), waving to Ron and heading up the staircase to the girls' dormitories.

Harry stood in front of the entrance to the boys' staircase, fiddling with his hands awkwardly. He seemed to be waiting for Ron to pass judgement.

Ron sighed. "You won't mess her around again?" he asked. "None of this _protecting_ crap again? Because she can look after herself. She's tougher than she looks. But that doesn't mean you can mess with her feelings."

"No," said Harry firmly. "I love her, Ron, and you know I could never break her heart like that again."

"Good," Ron said. "Then I'm happy for you, mate." Harry grinned at him. "So how does it feel, being free of all this?" Ron asked, grinning back himself.

"Amazing," said Harry, sounding dazed. He yawned. "And... exhausting," he admitted. "I'm going to bed. You coming?"

Ron shook his head. "I'll stay down here for a bit," he told him. Harry nodded, yawned again and went upstairs to bed, leaving Ron to work out his own feelings.

The night after the Battle was just a blur of feelings for Ron. There was so much happiness and sadness all at once, and he didn't know which was supposed to dominate. Insomnia ruling him again, he didn't even bother to go up to the boys' dormitory (where the combatants were temporarily staying), and had just stayed downstairs in the common room, wondering how all those emotions were supposed to fit together in his head.

He needn't have worried; soon, the very person he needed to puzzle his feelings out with emerged from the spiral staircase leading up to the girls' dormitories.

"Can't sleep either?" Ron asked.

"No," Hermione told him, sighing, the worry lines that had become a permanent feature of her face over the past year still ever present. "I just… I can't believe it's all over," she said weakly.

"I know," Ron sighed as Hermione took a seat by his side and he wrapped an arm around her body. "But it is, Hermione, it is, and you don't need to be the responsible one anymore. We don't need to keep looking behind our backs for… Voldemort." It was the first time he'd said the name. It still felt so odd. But he supposed there was no reason to be afraid of it any more, and Hermione had always been telling him how stupid it was, anyway. "Everything's okay now." He wished he believed that.

Hermione settled down and rested her head on his shoulder. "I wish it was that simple," she said quietly. "There's so much to sort out before we can move on. The Ministry's a mess, the castle's in ruins, and so many people are… _Fred_ is…"

Ron's heart almost stopped. There was just so much to cram in; his brother hadn't been taking up nearly as much of his thoughts as he should have been. His parents would soon have to bury the body of their child. He now had four brothers, not five. How would George cope without his twin?

He glanced down at Hermione and saw that a tear was glistening on her cheek. He wiped it off carefully. She looked up at him in surprise; this was very un-Ron-like behaviour. She seemed to like this new, sensitive Ron, he noted proudly.

"Well maybe it isn't okay, yet," he conceded. "But it will be, I promise."

"How do you know?" she whispered, her insecurities surfacing. It wasn't _meant_ to be this way round - Hermione was meant to be the rational, sensible one. She wasn't meant to be the one who needed looking after. But all the responsibility she had over the last year would be enough to crack anyone, and this was her moment of weakness.

But Ron had changed from that adorably ignorant fifteen-year-old who had the emotional range of a teaspoon. He knew how to handle this. "Because I've finally got you," he said simply.

Hermione beamed, and Ron pulled her in nearer and kissed her tenderly as she melted into his arms. It was slow and gentle; it couldn't have been more opposite from the raging passion that they had experienced during the Battle. But it was perfect for the moment, and Hermione visibly relaxed.

"There," he said, after they'd broken apart. "That should have been our first kiss. Years ago." Hermione looked slightly put out by this, so Ron quickly added, "Not that I was disappointed by the one from earlier. It was bloody fantastic," he said, and he meant it. "I just mean… that we should have had many more before then."

Hermione's eyes softened, and there was a moment's silence before Ron allowed the guilt to flood out.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"You don't need to apolo-" she began.

"Yes, I do," he insisted. "I'm sorry for everything I've done over the years that's prevented us from being together. Being sore over Krum... the whole thing with Lavender... just general bickering... and of course leaving you and Harry to find the Horcruxes by yourselves. I'm not trying to excuse what I did, of course I'm not, but I just want you to hear -"

"Ron," Hermione said gently. "Do you really think three in the morning is the appropriate time to be discussing this?"

He sighed. "Maybe not. But I just want to say, really, that I've been a total git these past few years."

"True," Hermione granted. "But I've hardly been innocent in all this. McLaggen, for example? And I was hardly fair to you over poor Lavender," she said guiltily, thinking of the state Lavender was in now. "And... just not speaking up and saying what I feel about you. I could have made the move as easily as you could. Neither of us has handled it particularly well, have we?"

Ron grinned. "We're useless, aren't we?" he said, laughing, unsure why he found it funny. "All this time, and if we'd just said... Hermione, let's promise to be straight with each other, starting from now. Agreed?"

"Agreed," she said, and it was like a great weight was lifted from both of their shoulders. Ron grinned at her, but Hermione's returning smile was tired and he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the pale and fragile appearance of her face.

"Want to go to bed?" Ron asked her gently, nodding towards the girls' staircase.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't... I don't really want to be on my own," she admitted. "Can we stay down here?"

It broke Ron's heart to see how vulnerable she looked. "Of course we can." She curled up against him, and before he knew it, her breathing slowed and she was fast asleep.

Ron couldn't even think about sleeping, though. Talking with Hermione and getting all that off his chest had reassured him, but there were still so many disjointed thoughts buzzing around in his head, and he couldn't quiet them, even to get some rest for just a couple of hours. Hermione... Voldemort... Harry... Ginny... Fred...

Hermione shifted in her sleep. Her sleeve had rolled up a little. The scar on her forearm glistened in the moonlight; _Mudblood_. Ron flinched. There was still so much to set straight, but for the moment, Ron decided that his priority was to be there for Hermione, and to make sure that he could never get as close to losing her as he did at Malfoy Manor again.

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**A/N: Well this is my new big project! I'm very excited about this as I haven't written a multichap in about six months and can't wait to get stuck in! ****This story will be Romione-focussed, but will also feature the other canon pairings and anyone else I feel like putting together. :) Rating it T just in case as I haven't 100% decided where it's going yet.**

**And the good news is that this is for the Long Haul Competition on HPFC, which means that you will be getting an update every week! ****Huge thanks go to my amazing beta, kci47, without whom I definitely would not be able to do this.**

**Disclaimer: All of this belongs to J K Rowling.**


	2. Chapter 2

Birds were singing and the sun was streaking through the window, and Hermione sat up, reluctantly leaving the warmth of Ron's arms. She didn't really want anyone to walk in on them like this. Everything that had happened between her and Ron last night could easily have happened between her and Harry (who was like a brother to her) when they were in the tent, but for some reason the moment seemed so intimate and personal that she didn't want to share it with anyone else.

Ron was still peacefully asleep, bless him; he could sleep through anything. Hermione checked her watch. It was almost nine o'clock, and although Hermione knew that people would be waking up soon and Ron would probably want to beat the queue for the showers and breakfast and suchlike, she didn't quite have the heart to awaken him. He deserved to stay in his dream world for as long as he could. There would be a lot of things for them to face that day.

Hermione moved to the other side of the sofa, hugged her knees to her chest and decided to _think_. She never used to be one for acting without thinking, but in the heat of the battle that had gone out of the window. She didn't regret it, though - acting on her instincts, the spontaneity, the adrenaline rush... it had felt amazing.

But now, Hermione could tell that the triumphant haze from the battle was wearing off, and she couldn't help thinking about the future.

She wondered if they would let her go back and do her last year of Hogwarts. She wouldn't exactly find it difficult, and she sort of didn't want to waste a whole year learning things she already knew - she hadn't found it difficult even before the Horcrux hunt, but now she had performed all kinds of advanced magic, some of it probably even beyond school level. But the Ministry would never take her on if she didn't have NEWTs, would they? Maybe they'd let her do some sort of accelerated course or something.

That was another thing: the Ministry was in total disarray. Kingsley had been declared temporary Minister for Magic, but what about all the the other Heads of Department who had lost their jobs to Death Eaters—they'd need to be reinstated. But most of them who had resisted were probably dead. Hermione shuddered.

A lot of people were dead. There was no denying that, and even if she did, she would have to face it sooner or later. The euphoria of beating Voldemort and the Death Eaters had been the dominant emotion yesterday, but now everything seemed more real as it dawned on her how much needed to be done. There would be funerals, she supposed... she would need to stay for them.

And after that, what would she do? Her parents were still in Australia. They still thought their names were Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that they had no daughter. Even if it was for their own safety, Hermione still felt guilty about that. However, lifting the enchantment should be simple enough. But Australia was a big place. She didn't actually know where they were. She would have to search for them. A sickening wave of déjà vu washed over her. It would be just like the Horcrux hunt all over again. She didn't know if she could face it. Well of course she could; they were her parents. But not on her own, and not so soon... they wouldn't want to see her like this, anyway - confused and grief-stricken, that is. She needed to sort her life out first.

But as people began to drowsily descend the staircases for breakfast, Hermione decided to enjoy the peace while it lasted. She got a few waves from people she knew, and, shivering, she started to feel a bit exposed in her thin nightdress. She wasn't too keen on the whole extended house seeing her in it. She wanted to go upstairs and get dressed, but then she didn't want to leave Ron to wake up without her and think that she was ashamed of him, because she wasn't.

Sighing, she decided to wake him up.

"Ron?" she whispered tentatively, gently shaking his shoulder, but to no avail. "Ron!" she said, louder this time, and shook him more insistently. "RON!"

He jerked awake, sitting up and looking around for danger. "Bloody hell, woman!" he exclaimed. "You'd think there was a fire or something!"

Hermione fought the urge to laugh, and pretended to look stern. "Well I'm sorry, Ron, but I didn't think you'd want to miss breakfast," she said, unable to repress a smile.

"Oh, it's fine," he said nonchalantly, "the house-elves will serve me any time I like."

Hermione gave him another stern look. "Well you've changed your tune since yesterday," she said indignantly.

"Sorry," he said hastily. "I shouldn't be so... pigheaded. I'd devote my life to house-elf campaigning if I thought it would get me more kisses like that. But I know I'll get them anyway," he teased.

Hermione went slightly pink and didn't quite know how to react. Ron chuckled and, without caring that there were people watching, kissed her for the third time, sending jolts down into her stomach.

It was intense, but not long. "Blimey," Ron said afterwards, almost to himself. "Was it only yesterday?"

"Well technically it was probably two days ago," Hermione admitted, "but we didn't sleep that night, so it may as well be yesterday."

Ron didn't react; it was as if he hadn't heard her. He had got lost in his thoughts. Hermione reached for the beaded bag - she hadn't yet broken the habit of sleeping with it beside her - and got him out some clean clothes. She placed them in his hands gently, and the vacant look disappeared as his eyes were brought back into focus.

"Sorry," he said. "I was just thinking."

"That's okay," Hermione said gently. She indicated the stairs. "I'm going to get dressed, so I'll see you at breakfast?"

"Sure," he agreed.

Hermione made for the stairs and saw the blank expression return to his face. He didn't move at all. She sighed, making her way up to the dorm. She suspected he was thinking of Fred. She should give him some space to do that.

Her dorm was full, fuller than usual. Parvati was by her usual bed, dressed and applying mascara, but Lavender's bed was empty. Hermione had never really appreciated Lavender's presence in her Hogwarts years, and now felt a pang of guilt. She'd been so brave. She was in the Hospital Wing, but Madam Pomfrey wasn't sure what she could do for her. Hermione hoped she would find something that would allow her to recover as much as possible.

There were also some older girls - Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell - who had taken the other beds, as there were more beds than Gryffindor girls in Hermione's year, and the older girls' old dorms had now been passed on to the first and second years.

Parvati raised her eyebrows when she saw Hermione enter in her nightdress. "Had a good night with your _boyfriend_ then?" she asked, grinning.

Hermione blushed and opened her mouth, about to say "He's not my boyfriend" but then realised that he kind of was, even if they hadn't exactly used the word. She settled for, "It was nice, yes."

"_Nice_?" Angelina repeated incredulously. "Sounds dead boring to me. Or you're lying. From what I heard, that kiss during the battle got pretty steamy."

Despite her efforts to compose herself, Hermione went an even deeper shade of red, and Katie protested, "Ange! Leave her alone."

"You're not really thinking that," Alicia teased Katie. "I know you're really glad that the attention's away from you and Oliver."

Normally Hermione wasn't particularly interested in gossip, but today it was oddly comforting. "You and Oliver?" Parvati asked, interested.

Katie went a shade of red to rival Hermione's, and Angelina confirmed, "Yep. They got together during the battle too, believe it or not."

"I can speak for myself!" Katie said indignantly, and she turned towards Hermione and Parvati. "We hadn't seen each other since school, and we might never have seen each other again, so it just... sort of happened," she admitted, her face glowing.

"Well, I'm happy for you," Hermione told her truthfully as she got dressed. It was true; she was glad that other people had found happiness as a result of the battle.

"She had a crush on him all through school," Angelina informed them. "She wouldn't tell him because she thought she wasn't good enough for him." She smirked. "It was so obvious that he didn't think so, though. She never got nearly as much punishment as the rest of us in Quidditch practices."

"Well, better late than never," Parvati said, giving Hermione a smile too. It was exactly the same with her and Ron, after all.

Hermione smiled back, but she could also feel the worry passing back over her face. The dorm was a safe haven, where they could pretend they were back at school, when everything was so simple, so predictable. Now Hermione had to face whatever was outside waiting for her. She had no idea what the future held.

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**A/N: Sorry if people got an extra email for this - just edited a couple of little things to tidy it up a bit. :)**

**kci47 is still amazing, and I am still not J K Rowling. I really can't be bothered to write this every chapter :P**


	3. Chapter 3

Ron picked at his porridge, not really feeling like eating for a change. Hermione hadn't come down yet, and Ron was feeling much less optimistic than yesterday. The atmosphere had noticeably dampened from the previous night, and sitting at the Gryffindor table amongst his grieving family did nothing to lighten it. Next to him was Harry, who had really become part of the family now. He had his arm around Ginny, who was red-eyed, looking as though she had cried herself to sleep. That was wrong in itself; Ginny never cried. Mrs Weasley _was_ crying, and Mr Weasley was patting her shoulder, looking weary. On the other side of the table were Bill and Fleur, who looked sad like everyone else, but kept exchanging glances and smiling at each other. That seemed bizarre. Ron wondered why. Beside them was Charlie, who just looked like nothing had sunk in, and Percy, who looked utterly guilt-ridden. A few days ago, Ron would never have believed he ever could, but he felt so sorry for Percy, perhaps more than anyone. Except George, of course. George just looked lost.

Luckily, Hermione came in then, providing Ron and the rest of the table with a distraction.

"Hey," she said, smiling nervously as she sat down between him and Harry and sensed the tense atmosphere. She looked around her hesitantly and, seemingly deciding she didn't care that they had an audience, gave Ron a quick peck on the lips. She was too embarrassed to let it last any longer.

Ron turned back around. The Weasleys had varying amused looks on their faces and Charlie had raised his eyebrows.

"_What_?" Ron demanded self-consciously.

"Oh, nothing," said Charlie casually. "Just that I heard you were a lot less reserved during the battle."

Ron was mortified and could feel his ears burning, and he noticed a blush creeping up Hermione's cheek. He looked round at his parents, expecting to be told off like he was about most things, but they were smiling.

"So you two are official now, then?" asked Bill, interested.

Ron looked at Hermione uncertainly, and she nodded in encouragement. "I... I suppose so, yeah," Ron said.

There was a flurry of comments: "Finally!" "Congratulations!" "When's the wedding!" and "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" (The latter was answered by a rude hand gesture, and Ron was lucky that Mrs Weasley happened to be looking in the other direction.)

Then there was a pause, one of those awkward pauses which would usually have been filled by the twins making a stupid joke. As it was, the gloom descended back down on the family.

Until, "About bloody time, eh?" George said, speaking for the first time that morning and even managing a weak smile.

Ron looked at his mother, the only person yet to comment. "Well, if you can put a smile on George's face then it must be right," she said softly. "Look after him, Hermione," she said, beaming.

"Of course I will, Mrs Weasley," Hermione assured her, smiling. "Although recently it's been more him that's been taking care of me," she admitted, giving Ron's hand a squeeze.

Ginny gave a disbelieving snort which she managed to disguise as a cough (Ron was slightly offended), but Mrs Weasley smiled warmly. "We're very proud of him," she said, and Ron would normally be disgusted by that, but it filled him up with a warm feeling. "And for goodness' sake call me Molly, Hermione dear, you're practically family anyway."

Ron pondered what his mother meant by that. She was talking like they were getting married or something, which of course they weren't anywhere near yet. They had years to think about things like that; now that Voldemort was dead, the future was looking a lot more certain. Well, it was certain that they _had_ a future, anyway. But Ron didn't think that was what Mrs Weasley had meant. Not everything had to change between him and Hermione; not everything had to be new and different. Hermione was his girlfriend, but she was still his best friend as well, and they had grown up together - when Hermione had stayed at the Burrow during all those summers, they had been like siblings. She was part of the family in the same way that Harry was.

"So you don't disapprove, then?" Ron asked, surprised. He hadn't really thought they would be too happy about it. His mother, in particular, seemed to disapprove of everything he did. Plus, they weren't impressed with Bill and Fleur at first, and they hadn't seen Ron for almost a year - it would be natural for them to be a bit overprotective.

"Of course we don't, darling," said Mrs Weasley. "It's clear how happy she makes you. And it's not like we didn't see it coming," she added, smiling.

"Were we _really_ that obvious?" Ron demanded exasperatedly, and there was a positive "YES!" in reply from the rest of the table. Ron looked at Hermione, who rolled her eyes. "But seriously," Ron continued, looking back at his parents, "I thought you... I mean, because we're young, and -"

"We could hardly disapprove because of _that_," Mr Weasley interrupted, amused. "We were married with Bill on the way when we were not much older than you two. And now look where we are, with seven -" He trailed off. An uncomfortable silence descended.

"Seven," Ron said suddenly, surprising even himself by speaking. Everybody looked at him questioningly, and he continued. "There are still seven of us. Just because Fred isn't here doesn't mean he's left us. He's still with us. We don't have to forget that he ever existed. Because... we still have memories," he finished. He wasn't quite sure where the words had come from.

There was a silence, and Ron wondered if he'd said something wrong.

Ginny was the first to recover. "That was... wow," she said. "Who are you, and what have you done with Ron Weasley?"

"I'm not an insensitive git you know," Ron said defensively. Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Well, I am sometimes," he admitted. "But not always!"

"You're doing a good job on him, Hermione," Harry teased, and Ron punched his arm gently in mock protest.

"Why does Hermione get all the credit?" Ron complained, but secretly he didn't mind. It was really all down to her, anyway.

"I think you're both good for each other," Charlie offered, keeping the peace. "Hermione teaches Ron how to not be an insensitive git, and Ron teaches Hermione to have a little fun once in a while and not be so serious all the time."

Ron met Harry's eyes; Charlie didn't know this, but Hermione most definitely wasn't serious all the time. She definitely had a wicked side, but maybe Ron could make it surface a bit more often. He'd like that, he thought, suppressing a grin.

Just then, Professor McGonagall approached the table.

"I just thought you might want to know what the plan for today is," she said, looking at them sympathetically but also seeming businesslike. "You by no means have to, and I would recommend that you three especially -" she indicated Harry, Ron and Hermione "- get some rest, but the plan for today is for everyone to split into groups and start to repair a certain area of the castle."

"I want to help," said Harry immediately. "I -"

"I'm sure you do, Potter," McGonagall interrupted, suppressing a smile but still managing to look stern, "However, I think everyone here will agree that you need some more time to recover. You look exhausted."

"I'm fine," Harry began to say, but McGonagall wasn't having any of it. Ron found it quite funny and oddly comforting that she was the same as she had always been at Hogwarts, even though they weren't technically her students any more.

"I'll trust you, Miss Weasley," she said, nodding at Ginny, "to make sure he goes up to bed." Mrs Weasley nodded her approval from behind McGonagall.

"You should," Ginny told him gently. "You've done more than your fair share already."

"But I... I still want to," Harry protested, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. He sighed resignedly, seeming to realise that he was fighting a losing battle. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "But I'm helping tomorrow, and none of you are stopping me."

"We'll talk about it in the morning," Mrs Weasley said firmly. She seemed to forget that Harry was not really one of her own children.

Professor McGonagall smiled, and then moved further down the table to talk more specifically to Mr and Mrs Weasley. She took a deep breath, the cheer gone from her face. "Molly, Arthur, this is hard," she began softly. "We're going to have a memorial service, here at Hogwarts, for all the... casualties. But of course we're expecting everyone to have their own separate..." She swallowed. "Funerals. And the Healers want to speak to you about arrangements for... for the burial."

Ron could see the tears glistening in his mothers eyes again and could feel a lump building in his own throat. He glanced at George's face; it was blank, emotionless.

"I... I don't know," Mrs Weasley said thickly through her tears, looking at her husband. "We... we hadn't really thought about it." Mr Weasley shook his head, looking lost.

"Well, I'm sure they'll give you some time to decide," McGonagall assured them gently. "Just as long as you tell them you're thinking -"

"The orchard," George croaked suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him. "The orchard, where we play Quidditch in the summer. That's where we should bury him."

Ron could understand exactly why. It was where they spent their young, carefree days when nothing was so complicated. It was as far away from the devastation of the war as you could get.

"That... that's perfect, Georgie," Mrs Weasley said finally. Everyone was quiet.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts," McGonagall said softly, and went back up to sit at her place at the staff table.

Of course Ron had known that there would be a funeral, and a burial, and he'd thought that he had accepted that Fred was dead. But hearing the words and thinking about their meaning was just so different to knowing that they would happen sometime in the vague future. Ron looked around at his family again. His mother was being comforted by his father. Most of the others were staring blankly into space. Ron felt Hermione's hand on his and he squeezed it, truly grateful for her presence. Bill and Fleur seemed to be having some kind of silent conversation.

Finally, Mrs Weasley wiped her tears and got up. "I suppose we'd better get going," she said in a falsely cheery voice.

"Wait - Mum," said Bill, stopping her with his hand. "Before you go, Fleur and I have some news."

Mrs Weasley sat back down. "What news?" she asked suspiciously.

Bill looked round at everyone's expectant faces and hesitated. "Well, we weren't going to tell you so soon," he began, "but I think we could all do with something to look forward to." He paused, eyeing Mrs Weasley's face still. But he looked like he would burst if he held it in for any longer. "Fleur is pregnant!" he blurted, looking elated.

Everyone was delighted, and there were many squeals and excited exclamations from the family. Ron smiled. Sometimes the war felt like a bottomless, black pit that there was no escaping from, but it was moments of hope like this, and the wedding, that made them realise that it wasn't just a matter of trying to reach the light at the end of the tunnel. There had always been darkness, but there had always been little lights leading them out, and now the lights were becoming more and more frequent.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite their insistence that it would do them good to help, Mrs Weasley had banned Harry, Ron and Hermione from participating in the castle reparations and sent them up to bed. They hadn't dared to argue with her - after their year of absence, Mrs Weasley's motherly instincts towards the three of them had definitely escalated, and she was positively dangerous to argue with at times like this. So the trio reluctantly trailed upstairs to the common room and parted to ascend the spiral staircases to their separate dormitories.

"Night," Harry said to Hermione, yawning. "Well, it's morning, technically, but you know what I mean."

"Night. Sleep well," Hermione called after him as he began to climb the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Out of all of them, Harry was the one who deserved uninterrupted sleep. Hermione doubted that he would get it, however.

"Night," Hermione said again when she saw that Ron hadn't moved. He was still lingering. "What?" she asked softly, seeing his concerned expression.

Ron hesitated. "It's just... are you sure you'll be all right?" he asked, reaching for her hand tentatively.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"I mean... up there, by yourself," he clarified. "We can stay down here again if you want." Hermione smiled; there was something hopeful in his expression which suggested that he enjoyed last night as much as she did.

"I'll be fine," Hermione told him, squeezing his hand.

He didn't look entirely convinced. "Well, if you're sure -"

"Go," she insisted, kissing him quickly. "Harry needs you more than I do. Now hurry up, or he'll wonder what we're doing down here," she said with a smirk.

Ron smiled and reluctantly ascended the stairs to the boys' dormitory, whilst Hermione went in the opposite direction up to her own dorm.

If she was honest with herself, the thought of sleeping alone in the empty dorm didn't exactly fill her with joy. She tried closing the curtains, but she jumped at even the tiniest of noises and couldn't switch off the paranoia about what could be moving in the shadows. It was understandable; the last time she had slept in a room on her own was during those lonely nights on the Horcrux hunt after Ron had left, when Harry had been on watch. They had been expecting Snatchers or Death Eaters to appear at any moment, and no matter how hard she tried, Hermione still could not convince herself that the shapes in the shadows were nothing more than cats or people's assorted belongings.

So Hermione left the curtains open, and then she faced an entirely different (but much more normal) problem: the sun streaking through the windows. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating Voldemort's defeat. But it wasn't very helpful to Hermione - it would have been difficult enough to sleep during the day without the sunlight, but as it was, sleeping was near impossible.

It should have been nice to sleep in her four-poster bed after almost a year of sleeping in a bunk in a tent, but, tossing and turning as she tried to find a comfortable position, Hermione just couldn't get used to the feel of it. So much had changed since she had last occupied that bed, and it just seemed unnatural to be there again.

Hermione really wished she could switch off her brain for a bit and just stop _thinking_. Thoughts were whirring around in her head and they were overwhelming. Something - probably exhaustion - was preventing her from organising and prioritising them in her usual logical way, which in turn meant that it was like a constant drone in her head that just wouldn't shut up. It was a vicious circle.

She tried to remember how she used to get to sleep. It had never actually been a problem during the Horcrux hunt - she had just crashed from the exhaustion, and she had felt safe with Harry on watch. Now she had the exhaustion, but not the security of having someone to look out for her, which she had had with Ron the night before. She didn't like being alone, and she half wished that she had taken Ron up on his offer of staying with her, but she'd meant it when she said that Harry needed him more than her. Harry needed normality, and maybe having Ron up in the dorm with him would provide some. She didn't imagine that being alone would please Harry much, either.

What had she done before that? Her mother had always told her to count sheep. She tried that, but had difficulty fighting back tears from the memory. The rational part of her brain was telling her that she'd done the right thing for the safety of her parents, and was doing the right thing for their happiness not to retrieve them just yet. But the distressed, emotional part of her brain, the part that was ruling her at that moment, was screaming at her that she was an awful, awful daughter and that she didn't deserve them.

Suddenly, she couldn't fight them any longer, and all the unshed tears from the past year cascaded down her cheeks as her body shook from sobbing. She'd had to be strong during the Horcrux hunt; she'd had to keep going, and as a result had kept her emotions bottled up and detached herself from them. Now they were all emerging at once, and they were just too much for her. She couldn't even separate them and tell what the individual feelings were; she could just feel an overwhelming blur. She could still hear the rational side of her brain, though. It was telling her that this was good, that after this she wouldn't need to cry again, that it was good to be getting this out of the way early. She really hoped so.

* * *

She'd stopped crying and drifted in and out of sleep, until finally Ginny appeared at the doorway.

"Hey," Ginny said quietly, as if she was hoping not to startle her. Hermione wondered when people would stop acting like that around her. "Dinner's in five minutes - we didn't bother with lunch as breakfast was so late. The boys are waiting in the common room for us."

"Thanks," Hermione said, smiling weakly and getting up, smoothing out the creases in her top (she hadn't bothered to change out of her clothes). "Are they okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, they're fine," Ginny reported, coming into the room properly and sitting down on Parvati's bed. "Practically had to drag them out of bed. How about you, did you get much sleep, then?" she enquired lightly, although Hermione thought she detected a little worry in her tone.

"Yeah, it was really refreshing," Hermione lied. She wasn't quite sure why. She didn't want to share her moment of weakness with anyone, she supposed.

"Hmm," Ginny said, seemingly in approval, but Hermione could sense her scepticism.

"What?" Hermione asked warily.

The look Ginny gave her was both exasperated and sympathetic. "Just that you probably ought to wash those eyes out before we go downstairs."

Hermione sighed, cursing herself for forgetting how obvious it must have been and how well Ginny knew her, and looked in the mirror. Ginny was right; she was a blotchy, red mess. She went over to the sink in the corner of the room and splashed water onto her face, rubbing it onto her eyes. She glanced back at her reflection and sighed. It was better, but she didn't exactly look like she'd had the most refreshing nap. She dragged a brush through her hair.

"Want to talk about it?" Ginny asked softly.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm okay, now," she told her truthfully. "Just... everything got too much, you know?"

"Of course I do," said Ginny sympathetically. "Everyone gets moments like that. There's no need to be ashamed of it. And it feels better now, doesn't it?"

It did, surprisingly. Everything was back in perspective. Hermione felt like she could move on. And it was such a relief that Ginny understood how she was feeling, too. After the bizarre year she'd had, it was nice to be feeling something normal that other people could identify with. But she still didn't want to dwell on it.

"So what did I miss, then?" Hermione asked, and she noticed Ginny's smirk at the abrupt change of subject.

"Nothing much," she said. "I was fixing the Astronomy Tower with Dean, Seamus and Kingsley. We had a laugh." Hermione was slightly jealous of how _normal_ that sounded. "Oh - McGonagall came and told us that tomorrow's going to be pretty much the same as today, cleaning up the castle and stuff. And then it should be repaired in time for the next day, when we'll have the memorial service." Hermione wasn't quite sure what she felt about that - it seemed very soon. But then maybe that would help everything to sink in so they could get on with their lives.

Ginny had fallen silent. Probably thinking about Fred. "And after that?" Hermione prompted.

"Oh," Ginny said with a start. "Then... we just go home, I guess."

Hermione felt slightly sick at the thought that she had no home to go to. Well, she had a home in the physical sense, but home meant so much more than just a place to live. Home, to Hermione, meant somewhere to be with family; somewhere to feel safe and secure.

"Home?" she repeated in a small voice, as if it was a foreign word that she was trying to get her tongue around.

Realisation came over Ginny's face. "Home," she said again, firmly. "You'll come and stay with us, of course, Hermione. Until you get your parents back. And Harry, too, for as long as he wants. Both of you, you'll always be welcome. I don't even need to ask the others to know that."

Ginny had always been Hermione's best female friend, the person she went to if she needed to talk about feelings, or ask for advice, or just talk about general girl stuff which she couldn't do with anyone else. But never had Hermione been so grateful for Ginny's friendship. "Thank you," Hermione said, and she meant it. "Are you sure it won't be too much trouble, though?" she asked fretfully. After all, the Weasleys were going through a lot at the moment - the last thing Hermione wanted to do was add to it.

"You're joking, right?" Ginny said with an incredulous laugh. "Mum'll love the excuse to feed you up and fuss over you. I can tell she's been trying to restrain herself ever since you arrived back."

Although she was still worried about causing extra trouble for the Weasleys, Hermione had to admit that it would be good for her to stay with them for a while. It would give her a chance to spend time with Ron and Harry before they went their separate ways after the summer. Besides, when at home with her parents, although she had meals cooked for her and laundry done for her, most of the time Hermione was generally left to her own devices. But at the Weasleys', it felt so much more like she was being _looked after_. Maybe that was just what she needed.

"Okay," Hermione said reluctantly, and Ginny grinned. "But promise you'll say if we're too much trouble. It wouldn't be a problem - Harry and I could always go and stay at my house, or Grimmauld Place."

"It'll be fine," Ginny promised. "And it'll be nice; we can have a proper catch-up." It would, actually - there had been so much to think about on the hunt, but now that she was back, Hermione realised how much she had missed her friend.

"Yeah, we can," Hermione said, smiling. "Shall we go down now?"

The boys seemed to have got tired of waiting for them and gone down to dinner - the common room was empty when they entered. "Typical," Ginny snorted, but she smiled, and Hermione laughed.

Dinner had already started when they got down, and Hermione almost burst out laughing at the familiar sight of Ron trying to stuff as much chicken into his mouth as possible. That was something she hadn't seen for a long time.

"Didn't bother waiting for us, then?" Ginny demanded, pretending to be angry as the girls joined the table of Weasleys, who all looked amused at the sight of Ron's mouthful.

Hermione could see right through her, but Harry and Ron obviously couldn't. "I'm sorry," Harry said quickly. "We thought -"

"Sorry, 'Ermione," Ron said, his mouth still full of chicken, which he then managed to swallow. "We didn't know how long you would take, and we were just so _hungry_."

"It's okay, Ron," Hermione said, giving Ginny a look. "You've got gravy all around your mouth, by the way."

Ron looked embarrassed as everybody laughed at him and he wiped it off hastily. "That better?" he asked, his ears going red.

"Much," Hermione assured him, trying very hard not to laugh at his adorable self-consciousness, but not entirely succeeding.

"What would you do without her, eh?" Charlie teased, and Ron scowled at him, but couldn't keep himself from smiling for long.

"Mum," Ginny said, "you know Hermione's parents are still in Australia? I said she and Harry can stay with us for a while."

"If you're sure that's okay," Hermione said quickly. "I really don't want to be any trouble, not after everything that's happened... Harry and I can always go back home or to Grimmauld Place -" But Mrs Weasley stopped her words with a big hug.

"You know you're always welcome, Hermione dear, and you're never any trouble," Mrs Weasley told her firmly. "Right, Arthur?"

"Of course," Mr Weasley agreed, and there were noises of assent from the rest of the family.

That, and the general family atmosphere and enthusiasm at the table, was enough to convince Hermione that a stay at the Burrow was _exactly_ what she needed.

* * *

**A/N: I just want to say another huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, and also to my fantastic beta, kci47. :D**


	5. Chapter 5

After everyone was refuelled from dinner, the castle renovations resumed with a new vigour. The memorial service was creeping up on them, and people from all over the country, or even the world, were coming over to pay their respects to those who had died fighting the Death Eaters. Everyone wanted Hogwarts to look its best.

Harry and Ginny had said they wanted to be alone together for a while (Ron tried not to disapprove) and Kingsley had to go and sort some things out at the Ministry, so, giving up on sleep, Ron and Hermione took their places in the group with Dean and Seamus. It would be nice - since the Battle, they hadn't really spoken with their fellow students, or anyone really, except the family. Ron still felt like they were isolated from the rest of the Wizarding world; they were still the only ones who knew the story behind Voldemort's defeat. But maybe this would be a chance to forget that and enjoy spending some time with their old classmates.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall addressed them as they started to get up. "Are you certain that you are ready to join in? I'm sure nobody will mind if you decide to go back to bed -"

"We'll be fine, Professor," Ron interrupted her, smiling. Although their normal mannerisms were completely different, Ron sometimes found himself noting the similarities between McGonagall and his mother.

"We want to help," Hermione insisted, grasping Ron's hand firmly.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall sighed, admitting defeat. "You four," she said, looking round to include Dean and Seamus, "will be repairing the library."

Seamus laughed. "How fitting," he said, nudging Hermione cheekily. Hermione gave him a reproachful look and he winked at her.

"There's quite a lot of damage, I'm afraid," McGonagall warned them. "Come and find me if you need any help, although with Miss Granger on your side, I'm quite sure you won't," she said, smiling at Hermione, who blushed. "I'll be in my office." And she swept off to inform the next group of their duties.

"I don't think I've set foot in the library since about second year," Seamus commented as they left the Great Hall and ascended the staircase up to the third floor, where the library was located. The staircases were mainly fixed now, and there was almost no trace of the war here. Ron loved how normal the atmosphere was - the meaningless chatter was so comforting.

"You wouldn't," Dean laughed. "That's probably why you failed most of your OWLs, mate."

"Oi, I did not!" Seamus protested. "I only failed Divination and History of Magic. Oh, and maybe Potions, too." He looked sheepish.

"Did _anyone_ pass History of Magic, though?" Ron asked, grinning. "Other than Hermione, of course. That goes without saying." Hermione laughed awkwardly. "That's a compliment, by the way," Ron clarified.

"Um... thanks?" said Hermione, shaking her head, bemused.

Dean cleared his throat loudly. "_Anyway_."

"What?" Ron demanded.

"Just hoping you two aren't going to go all lovey-dovey on us and leave us standing here not knowing where to look," said Seamus cheerfully, as they reached the next floor.

Hermione smirked. "I think we can manage to restrain ourselves," she said innocently, catching Ron's eye.

"Good," said Dean, sounding relieved. "As long as you don't turn into _Lav-Lav_ -" Dean stopped in his tracks, seemingly remembering the state that Lavender was in now. "I didn't mean that," he said quietly.

The good humour among the group dissipated as they remembered what had happened to their classmate. Ron still had a horrible image of her, helpless and barely moving, mauled by Greyback. Not for the first time, Ron felt a stab of guilt at how he had treated her. She idolised him, and it made him feel like he was somebody. And the worst thing was that he'd known what he was doing at the time. He had never intended to stay with her. She'd just made him feel better as he'd tried to accept that Hermione was out of his reach.

Ron sighed. That was all in the past now, and he couldn't change it, however much he wanted to. And Hermione had forgiven him, he thought. Ron squeezed her hand possessively and her eyes met his in understanding, suggesting that she had perhaps been following a similar train of thought. "I think I should go and visit her," Ron told Hermione quietly. "You know, because I haven't spoken to her properly since we broke up. She deserves some explanation. And... I just can't quite believe what happened to her."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Of course," she said. Dean and Seamus tactfully sped up their pace, allowing Ron and Hermione to talk more privately. "Have you heard how she is?" she asked softly.

Ron shook his head. "I don't know if she's even still here," he admitted guiltily. "She might have been transferred to St Mungo's."

"I think I heard Parvati say that she's refusing to move until after the memorial service," Hermione told him. "That must take courage."

Ron nodded, feeling guilty again about how he'd dumbed down her personality to one dimension. She must be a pretty strong woman to survive what she was surviving.

"I should probably go and see her too," Hermione said thoughtfully. "We didn't exactly part on the best of terms last year. But obviously we should go separately. Probably not the best idea to talk about that stuff with me there."

"No," Ron agreed. The conversation ground to a halt as both of them were immersed in their thoughts.

Seeming to decide the coast was clear, Dean and Seamus slowed down, allowing Ron and Hermione to catch up with them.

"So, finished your little heart-to-heart, then?" Seamus asked, winking.

"Er, yeah, I think so," Ron confirmed, grinning sheepishly as he looked uncertainly at Hermione, who nodded. "Sorry about that."

"It's better than the bickering," Dean teased, shrugging, and then flinching as the two of them glared at him. "Sorry!" he exclaimed, raising his hands defensively.

"So," Seamus began, hastily changing the subject, "when are you two going to fill us in on what you've been doing for the last year? All we've had confirmed is Gringott's, and you didn't even tell us why you were there."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other uncertainly. They weren't sure if they were meant to tell people yet. They hadn't told everyone what they were doing during the battle when they were looking for the diadem. But weren't things different now? Voldemort was gone, wasn't he? But then maybe it wasn't the best idea to disclose all the information. Who was to say that some foolish person in the future wouldn't choose to make a Horcrux and cause history to repeat itself? Hopefully people would learn from the consequences of this time, but you can never know. Ultimately, though, it should really be down to Harry to decide what he wanted to tell people.

Hermione seemed to be thinking along similar lines; after a second, she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

"We were, er, looking for something," Ron said evasively.

Seamus snorted. "Of course you were. Why else would you rob a bloody bank?" He paused. "You can trust us, you know. We had a difficult year as well." His face hardened, drawing attention to the cuts and bruises still evident.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione quickly. "We know you were fighting too. It's just... I think it should be up to Harry whether he wants to tell people what happened or not."

"I get it," said Dean, and Seamus nodded his understanding without changing his unusually dark expression. Ron couldn't help feeling that Neville had only scratched the surface on what seventh year was really like for their old classmates.

There was an awkward silence, and luckily they were spared the need for further words by their arrival at the library. Ron turned the doorknob, slightly apprehensive as to what they would find inside.

He understood what McGonagall had meant when she said there was a lot of damage. Not only were there fragments of wood from the bookshelves and countless books littering the floor, but the whole structure of the room had collapsed. The roof had caved in, and the back walls looked very unstable. Seamus swore under his breath and Dean let out a low whistle. But the most upsetting thing for Ron was Hermione's face.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, you look like someone's died," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work. Ron felt slightly sick as he realised how inappropriate his humour was.

A year ago, he would have continued to mock her, but now Ron just stayed by her side, gripping her hand tightly. "Sorry," he whispered.

He kind of understood Hermione's anguish. For her, the library represented security, a pure, innocent place where she could enjoy learning. The war had even destroyed that. There was no more innocence.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry this update took so long - my life's suddenly gone a bit crazy, and I took some time out to plan better, and got a bit of writer's block. But I think I'm back on track now and shouldn't leave you waiting too long for the next bit. :)**

**Thank you to my beta, kci47 - you are wonderful.**


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione tried to process the scene in front of her. The library, the place where she came to study, but also the place at Hogwarts where she had felt truly content, in ruins. She knew it was stupid to feel like this over what was essentially just a room full of books. But for six years of her life, she had possibly spent more time here than anywhere else. It almost felt as though a childhood friend had died, or her home had been destroyed. (She cast her mind briefly to her actual home. Had the Death Eaters paid a visit? She didn't want to think about it.) It was a lot to take in.

But strangely, as she felt Ron's hand on hers, she wasn't as upset as she could have been. During their sixth year, when her friendship with Ron had been crumbling, the library had been her place to seek solace, the place that was solid, constant. Now it was the library that was crumbling, and Ron that was her rock. Somehow it felt a lot better that way around.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hermione decided that action was the way forward. It wasn't as if the library was broken beyond repair. "Well, we'd better get on with it, then," she said, her tone surprisingly businesslike as she surveyed the damage properly. "We should probably start by repairing the roof, and then move onto the bookshelves and the books."

"That sounds logical to me," Ron said quickly, sounding relieved, and Dean and Seamus nodded their agreement.

"What would _you_ know about logic?" Hermione teased, and the atmosphere visibly relaxed.

It would be a long process: they needed to reassemble the rubble into its individual bricks before they could even think about starting to rebuild the roof. Hermione showed the boys the technique and they got to work, making slow but clear progress.

At first, they were focussed on their task, rarely speaking, but it was dull, repetitive work, so their concentration didn't last for too long.

"I'm bored," Seamus complained, looking at his watch. "Can't we take a break now?"

"We've only been here for half an hour. We still need to finish repairing the bricks, then reassemble the roof and that's before we've even started thinking about putting all the books back. We'll be here all night at this rate," Hermione pointed out disapprovingly.

"Let's carry on so we can finish sooner," Ron suggested, and Hermione tried not to laugh at how obviously he was trying to agree with everything she said.

Seamus scowled as the other three continued their work, and walked over to a pile of disordered books by the wall, picking one up and flicking through it.

"Blimey, Seamus, you _must_ be bored if you've picked up a book," said Dean, impressed.

Hermione saw the book in his hand - _Quidditch through the Ages_. "It's a surprisingly good read, actually," she commented.

"_You've_ read this?" Seamus demanded, flabbergasted, knowing Hermione's dislike for Quidditch.

"What?" she asked defensively. "I do read rather a lot, you know."

"You don't say," Ron muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, listen to this," said Dean, who had also abandoned their task and was reading over Seamus's shoulder. _"One famous match in 1884 on Bodmin Moor, Cornwall, had to be abandoned after six months of fruitless searching for the Snitch. Many believe that it is still loose in the area to this day, which is fully possible due to its properties."_

"Oh, Bodmin," Hermione said without thinking, "Harry and I stayed near there for a while before Christmas."

Ron's head snapped up to look at her, a pained expression on his face, and Hermione realised her mistake - _Harry and I_. Nobody else knew about Ron's absence. She looked at him apologetically and prayed that Dean and Seamus hadn't picked up on her stumble.

But they were surprisingly observant. "You and Harry?" Dean repeated, eyebrows raised. "Not Ron?"

"Um - yeah - I -" she stuttered, not sure how she could get them out of this. She knew that Ron was still extremely guilty, and he needed to tell people in his own time.

"I need some air," Ron announced loudly, and Dean and Seamus looked after him, confused, as he marched out of the room. Hermione gave them an _I'll explain later_ look (although she wasn't sure how she would explain) before dashing after him - there were times when Ron needed to be left alone to work out his emotions, but Hermione didn't think that this was one of them.

* * *

Ron strode down the corridor until he spotted an open window. Leaning his body out of it slightly, he tried to clear his head.

He'd known that people were bound to find out eventually. It would be hard to hide such a big part of their journey, and Ron and Hermione's relationship (because he couldn't pretend that it hadn't been damaged by his foolish decision). Especially since he really wasn't keen on lying to their friends. Hermione wouldn't want to do that, either. He felt guilty for the position he'd left her in just then.

But he really didn't want them to know. He definitely got the sense that people thought of Harry and Hermione as the better part of the trio, and this would definitely back up those feelings. He hoped that he'd done enough to compensate for running away, and to show that he was truly sorry, but he just couldn't be sure. Plus, he needed to work out his own feelings on it first - Hermione claimed to have forgiven him, but they hadn't really spoken much on the subject. He didn't want to, but maybe they needed to.

He heard footsteps and turned around, alarmed, but luckily it was Hermione. "Hey," she said quietly as she reached him, and he moved over to make room for her at the window.

"What did you say to them?" Ron asked nervously.

"Nothing," she assured him, to his relief, "I just followed you out. We'll have to think of something to tell them later." Hermione paused, looking uncomfortable. "I'm really, really sorry," she said guiltily. "It just slipped out; I didn't think."

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault. My stupid fault for doing it in the first place," he muttered, still angry with himself. He sighed. "We still haven't discussed this properly, have we?" he said tentatively.

Hermione shook her head. "Don't worry, that's kind of my fault," she told him. "I was so angry when you came back; I wouldn't even _look_ at you. And then there was just never really an opportunity."

"Shall we... do you want to talk now?"

"If you want," Hermione said, "but really, we don't have to. I've forgiven you, Ron. I understand why you did it."

Ron could hardly believe it. He really didn't deserve her. "Thanks," he mumbled, struggling to find better words. "There's something I never told you, though," he said suddenly, and Hermione looked apprehensive. "And we said no more secrets, right?"

"Yes," she said warily. "Go on."

"I..." Ron began, feeling stupid. "I genuinely thought there was something going on between you and Harry. And I was jealous."

Hermione looked shocked. "Me and... what on earth made you think that?" she asked, flabbergasted.

He shrugged. "I don't know - the Horcrux's influence, mostly, but I think I just felt set aside when you were discussing all those theories, and... I don't know, I just sometimes feel like I'm just Harry's sidekick or something. Living in his shadow. Tagged on at the end." He had never confessed this thought to anyone before.

Hermione stood there looking stunned for a second longer, then suddenly, unexpectedly, kissed him.

"You have _never_ been that to me," she said after she'd finally pulled away. "Harry... he's like a brother to me. It's completely different from what I feel for you. And I've never felt like this about anyone before."

"What, even Krum?" Ron couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Oh, for God's sake, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling. "When are you going to get over him? I was _fifteen_."

"Sorry," Ron apologised quickly.

"No, it's okay," she sighed. "We said we'd be straight with each other. Viktor was very nice and everything, just not... I don't know. _Exciting_."

"And I am?" Ron said immediately, grinning.

Hermione laughed. "Yes."

Ron couldn't help feeling slightly smug at being compared positively to an international Quidditch star. "Well, since you've said that, I'll say this."

"What?"

"Lavender? She's not my type."

Hermione's face creased in puzzlement. "So what is your 'type', then?" she enquired.

"You, idiot," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"I am not an idiot, Ronald Weasley, and I think you should take some lessons in flattery; that was pitiful," Hermione said reproachfully, but Ron could tell that she was struggling to suppress a smile.

"Whatever. I know you loved it."

"Maybe," she admitted, giving in and letting the smile spread across her face. There was a pause, and Hermione looked at Ron hesitantly. "Shall we go back in?" she asked cautiously. "We don't have to tell them anything now."

Ron considered. He was feeling much more relaxed now, and he would have to face them sooner or later. "Sure," he agreed. "We couldn't have Hogwarts reopening without a library, now, could we?"

"No," she agreed slowly, and Ron could tell from her tone that she was trying to work out if he was being sarcastic or not. He laughed and took her hand, leading her back towards the library to face the task in front of them.

* * *

**A/N: Well I kind of lied when I said I wouldn't keep you waiting for the next chapter... but never mind, here it is! :)**

**Thank you again to my fabulous beta, kci47.**


	7. Chapter 7

The mood in the common room that night was mixed. On the surface, everyone was pleased that the castle reparations were largely finished and Hogwarts had been restored to its former glory. Hermione, for one, was pleased with her contribution towards fixing the library - it really felt like they were making progress and maybe, just maybe, were finally on the road back to normality. But on the other hand... the absence of work to do was definitely contributing towards the sense of dread for the memorial service. Tomorrow, they couldn't continue to live in denial of what had happened. Tomorrow, they would have to face up to everything.

Tonight, however, Hermione was sitting with Harry and Ron in their favourite armchairs by the fire, just like old times. It certainly wasn't the warmest day of the summer so far, and since the sun had gone down, Hermione had started shivering. Ron had offered her his jumper, which she had taken gladly, and she was now huddled up inside it, enjoying the way it smelled like him. The three weren't speaking much, but Hermione didn't feel they needed to - just being in each other's company again was enough.

"You okay?" Ron asked Hermione after a while, noting her uncharacteristic silence. She nodded. "Warm?"

Hermione laughed. "Of course."

"You do realise you aren't getting that back, Ron," Harry commented, grinning. Ron looked confused, so he continued. "Girls never give back jumpers. It's a fact of life."

Ron looked as though he was going to protest for a moment, but then said, "Oh well. I have about six others at home. Nothing wrong with you going around with a big 'R' on your front to show everyone that you're mine," he added, winking at her.

Hermione glared at him, pretending to be angry. "I'm not a possession, Ron," she scolded.

"Then why do you want my jumper?" he asked, making a face at her.

"Because it's comfy," she told him, unable to suppress a smile. "Anyway, shush - we're ignoring Harry," she pointed out. She'd been trying not to let herself and Ron act like a couple too much around Harry; she felt bad leaving him out, and she was trying to restore normality for him at any rate.

But Harry shook his head. "Oh, I don't mind, this is quite entertaining, to be honest," he admitted. "And I think this is the longest you've stayed on speaking terms for a while."

"Hey!" Ron protested, trying to kick him but unable to reach. "That's not true!"

"Whatever," Harry shrugged. Ron scowled, but Hermione smiled; she was happy to have her friend back again.

The common room was filling up even more and the noise level was rising to something that would rival your average Saturday evening during term time. It felt so natural that Hermione's hand was starting to feel empty without a quill in it - she felt like she should be working. It was funny, really. Instead, she rested her head against Ron's shoulder and enjoyed the unusual feeling of security.

"We'd better go and find Kingsley," Harry said suddenly, after checking his watch. Professor McGonagall had approached them at dinner and told them that Kingsley wanted to speak to them later that night.

"Merlin, is that the time?" Hermione asked incredulously. Time really did seem to fly by at moments when you didn't want it to - everyone was dreading the next day.

"So what do you reckon he wants?" Ron asked as they descended the stairs to the Entrance Hall, where they were meeting Kingsley.

"Dunno," said Harry, shrugging. "Could be anything, really, seeing as he's Minister for Magic now."

"True," Ron said. Conversation between the trio stopped while they walked the rest of the way down to the Entrance Hall: all three of them were engulfed in their individual thoughts. There was a lot to think about.

Finally, they arrived, and Kingsley was already waiting for them.

"Hello, how are you all?" Kingsley asked immediately. "Recovering?" They all nodded and he continued without trying to make any more small talk; that sort of thing wasn't in his nature after all. "The reason I've brought you here," Kingsley began, "is because I was wondering whether you'd given any thought to what you'll be doing after the summer."

Hermione looked round at Harry and Ron. It was all looking very uncertain at the moment.

"Well... to be honest, I'm having trouble looking past tomorrow," Harry admitted, and Ron and Hermione agreed.

Kingsley nodded. "Understandable. Well, in that case, I have a proposal for you. How about joining the Auror department?" Hermione saw Harry's eyes light up. "Now, normally, of course, you'd need NEWTs, and very good ones at that," he added, "but in this case, we're willing to make an exception. You've definitely proved yourself capable during the last year, and... well, to be frank, we're kind of desperate for replacements." Kingsley paused, failing to disguise the pain from his eyes. It made sense that the Auror department had been hit hard by the losses from the battle. "We'd put you on an accelerated training course so that you could start as soon as possible - those last few Death Eaters need rounding up quickly." He paused to look at the three of them expectantly, but got no reaction; they were all deep in thought. "I'll give you some time to think about it," Kingsley finished.

"I don't think I'll need to think much," said Harry, grinning.

"Glad to hear it," said Kingsley, laughing. "Don't feel pressured into anything, though," he added, looking round at Ron and Hermione too.

"It's okay, you're not pressuring us," Hermione assured him. "Thanks, Kingsley."

"You're welcome," he told her. "Let me know what you decide. Also, one other thing, and this is mainly for you, Harry - the Daily Prophet keeps pestering us for interviews with you. We're telling them no at the moment, but this is just a warning that they'll probably approach all three of you tomorrow, so either tell them to bugger off, which I don't think anyone could blame you for doing, or try and think about what you might say."

Harry looked uncomfortable. Hermione knew that he was wondering how much they should be revealing to the public. "Okay, thanks for the heads up," he said finally.

"Unless you have any questions, I'd better be getting back to the Ministry," said Kingsley, checking his watch. "I suppose I'll see you tomorrow."

They said their goodbyes and Kingsley left the Entrance Hall, leaving the three of them to talk.

"We don't have to tell them anything yet," Ron said reasonably, observing Harry's unhappy expression.

"If you're not ready to talk, don't," Hermione agreed. She was worried about him, honestly. There were times when she looked at him and his face just looked lost; expressionless. Of course it was understandable for him to be affected by what had happened, but she was really hoping that it wouldn't last for too long. At least he had Ginny. She was good for him.

Harry shrugged. "I'll have to sooner or later, so why delay it?" he asked sadly.

"Really, Harry, are you sure?" Hermione asked, still concerned. "Doing a full interview on a day you're bound to be upset as it is?"

"I'll be fine. It'll be better to get it out of the way," he decided, brightening up considerably. "I'm going to go and find Ginny; tell her about the Auror training. I think she went to play Quidditch with a couple of people," he said, gesturing out of the oak double doors as he started towards them.

"See you later," Hermione called after him as Ron waved.

"So are you going to go for it? This Auror thing?" Ron asked Hermione as they started walking up the stairs back to the common room.

"No, you know that Auror training has never appealed to me," she said, and it was true - she'd been reconsidering while Kingsley was talking, and she didn't think she could stand a lifetime of pretty much the same thing as what they'd been doing for the past year. "How about you?"

"Yeah, I'll do it - why not?" Ron said casually. "I mean, it's not as if I've ever thought about doing anything else."

Hermione frowned. "You can't just make such a big decision without thinking about it first," she told him disapprovingly. "This will affect the rest of your life."

Ron looked slightly hurt. "Well it's not like I only decided two minutes ago," he argued. "I've wanted to be an Auror for years, you know that."

"Yes, but..." Hermione began. She wasn't sure whether it would be better to say this or keep it in. But, even if she wasn't sure Ron would want to hear it, it might benefit him more in the long run if he did. "I always wondered whether you just... wanted to do it because Harry did," she finished finally.

"So you're saying I'm like Harry's... sidekick, or something?" Ron demanded, his ears beginning to go red. "You're saying I'm following him like a sheep, I'm incapable of making decisions by myself?"

"No! That's not what I meant at all!" Hermione protested, feeling guilty - that hadn't come out the way she'd intended it to. "I just meant... maybe you deserve to spend some time out of Harry's shadow. Become your own person, maybe. Get the chance to shine in your own light."

"So now you're saying I'm not good enough?" Ron asked, no longer angry, but still looking upset.

"No. _No_. Never think that," Hermione urged him. "You're just as good as Harry. I mean it," she insisted as Ron scoffed. "You were absolutely phenomenal during that battle." Ron grinned despite himself, and Hermione continued. "What I meant is that... well, people are always going to look more highly on Harry, because he's been famous since before he could even talk. Maybe some time away from Harry would do you good."

Ron seemed to consider. He sighed. "Well, I don't know... I'll think about it. I don't know what else I'd do," he said worriedly.

"Well Kingsley said you don't have to decide right away," Hermione pointed out. "The spot will still be open in a couple of weeks."

Ron nodded. "I guess so," he said. He fell silent for the rest of the way back to the common room, lost in thought.

Hermione decided to think about her own future. She really didn't know where she wanted to end up. She'd thought about becoming a Healer when she was younger, but after helping Madam Pomfrey immediately after the battle, she thought she'd had enough of that sort of thing for a lifetime. She didn't want to end up with an office job, but there were more practical positions in the Ministry. She decided she'd do some further research into that. But... she didn't feel _complete_ without NEWTs. It was silly, really - she knew that none of it would be beyond her level, but she just felt like she needed something to show for all those years she had spent at Hogwarts. She resolved to speak to Professor McGonagall about it all in the morning.

Although maybe the morning wouldn't be the best time to seek out her former professor. Everyone was going to be a bit preoccupied tomorrow.

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**A/N: Sorry for the horrible delay, again... rewatching DH part 1 and 2 was what finally made me get off my arse and write this because OH MY GOD THERE IS SO MUCH ROMIONE IN THERE. There's this bit at the end of Part 2 that I never really noticed before when Ron and Hermione come in holding hands, and then Hermione does this little smile and I thought I would explode from the cuteness. :)**

**Thank you to kci47 for betaing!**


	8. Chapter 8

Unusually, Ron was the first to wake in the boys' dormitory the next morning. Although he'd been drifting in and out of sleep all night, he didn't feel rested at all. It was odd; he'd never had trouble sleeping in the past. During their Hogwarts days, he'd always been the first to fall asleep and the last to wake up in the morning, and even during their year on the run, he'd been out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow because of the exhaustion.

Last night, however, dread for the next morning had disturbed his rest. Over the last couple of days, there had been so much to do to get the castle ready, so Ron hadn't really had time to think about it. But now, Ron couldn't get Fred out of his mind.

If Ron could have counted on anyone surviving, it would have been Fred. Fred was just one of those people who seemed untouchable by the war - or anything bad that happened in life, for that matter. Along with George, he could make good come out of anything, and that was a much-needed talent at this trying time. Ron almost smiled as he remembered their range of U-No-Poo products. He missed those times. Now when he looked at George, he seemed more sombre than anyone. Ron had the feeling that his family wouldn't be the lighthearted group it once was for a long time.

Fred would hate that. If Ron was sure of anything, he was sure that Fred died fighting for something he believed in, and they'd won. He would want them to be celebrating, not moping over his death. But it was hard not to be downhearted with all the awkward silences that would ordinarily have been broken by one of the twins cracking a joke.

He cast his mind to the other people who had died. He remembered Tonks's laughter as she shifted her nose to a pig's snout at the dinner table of Grimmauld Place, the look of pure joy on Remus's face when he practically ran into the house to tell them about Teddy's birth, first-year Colin Creevey's innocent excitement as he asked Harry for a signed photo, and he had only one thought - _why them_? But that was just it: _nobody_ deserved to die in that battle, but they had, and there was nothing anybody could do to change it.

Sighing, Ron rolled over in bed and saw that he was no longer the only person awake in the room: Harry was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and feeling around on his bedside table for his glasses.

"Morning," Ron greeted him quietly, so as not to wake the others. Dean, Seamus and Neville were still fast asleep, if the snores echoing around the dormitory were anything to go by.

"Morning," Harry said, putting his glasses on and yawning. "You alright?"

Ron shrugged. He wasn't really alright, but he'd never really been one to admit that.

"Stupid question, I guess," Harry muttered apologetically. "I doubt that anyone will be, today."

"S'okay. Did you get much sleep?" Ron asked. Harry definitely didn't look like his night had been any more restful than Ron's.

"Not really," Harry admitted. "Today's the day when we have to accept everything, isn't it?"

Ron nodded. They'd been living in denial for the past few days, but this was the day that would send everything crashing down to Earth. Ron looked at Harry and his expression scared him. Hermione was supposed to be the one to deal with all this feeling stuff, but she wasn't there, so Ron figured he'd better give it a shot. "You're... you're not still blaming yourself for all of this, are you?" he asked tentatively. "Like you were before the wedding?"

Harry sighed. "No; I know that all those people were fighting Voldemort for everyone, not just me, but... I keep going over and over all these different scenarios - what would have happened if I'd turned myself in earlier or something? Would those people have lived?"

"Harry, we'll never know. There's no point in even thinking about it. You've done nothing wrong," Ron assured him.

"I know," Harry told him, looking grateful, "but it's just hard not to feel guilty sometimes."

"It's okay. Everybody understands. How are you feeling about the interview?" Ron asked.

"Pretty nervous," Harry confessed. "I'm just so worried I'll miss something out, or remember something wrong, or... I don't even know, just mess it up somehow or other."

"Maybe Hermione's right. Maybe you should do it another day," Ron suggested; he knew that he wouldn't want to do such a draining interview on a day like this. "I'm sure nobody will mind."

"Yeah, but if I don't do it today, I feel like I might never do it. Best to get it over and done with," Harry insisted.

"Well, if you're sure," Ron said uneasily. He felt like he was worrying too much - probably Hermione rubbing off on him - but he didn't know if it was a good thing for Harry's stress levels to be raised any more than they needed to be. "And don't worry, nobody will expect you to say everything - you'd have to write a bloody autobiography to do that," Ron joked, and Harry chuckled a little. "If you want, me and Hermione could be there, and then we can say if you forgot something important. Not that I'll be able to help with all of it," he said, still feeling guilty about leaving them.

"That might be good," Harry said gratefully. "I'll think about it." There was an awkward silence, and after checking the others were still asleep, Harry said, "I won't tell them about you... leaving. Not if you don't want."

Ron sighed. He still wasn't sure how he thought about other people knowing. "That... that might be best. Thanks," Ron told him. "I think I might tell people eventually, but... it might help not to have it all over the papers."

Harry smiled. "Ron... you know I get why you did it, right? And it's kind of good you did, in the end - you saved my life when I was trying to get that sword."

"Hey, you would have got out somehow," Ron said awkwardly, not wanting to take the credit.

"No, I wouldn't," Harry insisted. "And although I was angry to start with - even angrier than Hermione, I reckon - I've forgiven you."

Ron didn't know how to answer, but the two friends looked each other in the eye and Ron knew that Harry understood.

It suddenly occurred to Ron how little he'd seen of his best friend since the battle. Ron hoped that all the time they'd been spending with their girlfriends wouldn't cause them to drift apart.

That got him thinking about his conversation with Hermione last night. He'd always imagined leaving school and then starting Auror training with Harry, but was that the best thing for him?

Ron shook the troubling thoughts off. He didn't want to think about the future. Today was for thinking about the past.

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**A/N: Teenage boys don't do feelings, do they? ;)**

**I'm currently feeling inspired with this story, so who knows - you might get a quick update this time!**

**Thank you again to kci47, my lovely beta.**


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione arrived in the Great Hall that morning to find a very tense atmosphere amongst the Weasleys. Annoyance was written clearly on Ron's face - Mrs Weasley had already cornered him and was fussing over his robes, straightening the collar, before moving to his hair. That was the sort of thing that always set Ron on edge, and Hermione recognised the need to remove him from the situation before he cracked.

Grabbing a stack of toast from the Gryffindor table as she passed, Hermione waited for Ron to be released by his mother. "Want to go for a walk?" Hermione asked him gently when Mrs Weasley finally seemed satisfied and moved onto Charlie.

Ron nodded gratefully. "I could do with some fresh air," he admitted. He made to take some more toast from the middle of the table.

"I've already got toast," Hermione called after him, holding up the pile.

Ron raised his eyebrows and took some anyway. "Do you not know me at all, Hermione?" he demanded. "I eat more than that."

Smiling, Hermione ignored the comment; it was a good sign that Ron was still able to joke about things on a day like this. She took his hand and they made their way outside. The cool morning air was refreshing. In reality, Hermione wasn't taking this walk just for Ron's benefit - there was selfish reasoning behind it too. The crowded hall had made her anxious, and it was a relief to be free of it for a while.

"I think her mothering instincts are going into overdrive, you know, now... now that there's one less of us," Ron said quietly as they strolled towards the forest. The mention of his mother seemed a little out of the blue, but then everything did at the moment, since everyone spent so much time submerged in their own individual thoughts.

"It seems that way, yes," Hermione agreed, sighing sadly. She didn't know what else to say. She looked at Ron, and it broke her heart that he had to go through this; he didn't deserve to lose a brother. He didn't deserve to lose anyone. "I... I'm so sorry, Ron. I wish I could just fix this."

"Nothing you can do," Ron said, shrugging. "Except... be here for me."

In that moment, he looked more vulnerable than Hermione had ever seen him. "You know I am," she told him quickly, clinging onto his free hand as the tears formed in her eyes - no, she had no right to cry. He was the one who had lost a brother. "I love you."

The words had slipped out so naturally that she hadn't even realised she said them until Ron's head snapped up to look at her. "You... you love me?" he repeated dubiously.

It was so early in their relationship, and a couple of years ago she would perhaps have scoffed at using the word so soon, but Hermione had never felt anything like this. She was sure she did love Ron, differently to how she loved Harry or her parents. "Yes," she said with certainty. "You know that, don't you?"

"No - well, I mean, I hoped so," Ron said hastily, "but you'd never said it out loud before. It feels nice. I love you too," he declared, sounding almost puzzled, and Hermione giggled. It did feel nice.

"What?" Ron demanded, taking a large bite of toast now that he'd cheered up.

"Nothing," Hermione said quickly. "You're right, it does feel nice. It was just the way you said it," she told him, smiling.

"Well I'm sorry, I didn't realise there was a specific way—" Ron started to say indignantly, but Hermione interrupted him.

"Ron, it's okay!" she assured him, fighting the urge to laugh even more. "I like it when you make me laugh. And I like the way you said it. It was just so... _you_."

They walked for a while longer, holding hands and grinning like idiots, until they reached the edge of the forest, when they realised how much time had passed and the solemnity of the day dawned on them once more.

"We should probably go back now," Hermione suggested tentatively, once they'd come to a stop.

"No!" Ron said immediately, and then seemed to regret revealing his obvious dread. "I mean... this is nice. Surely we can keep walking for just a little bit longer?"

Hermione looked straight into Ron's eyes and he shied away from her gaze, knowing that she could see right through him. "Putting this off won't make it any better, you know," she told him sadly.

Ron sighed. "I know," he said, still staring fixedly at the ground. "But... I love spending time with you, because it makes me forget. It makes me forget what happened. It makes me forget that there's anyone else in the world."

Hermione lifted his chin and kissed him intensely; she could feel all the desperation and need in his response. "I understand," she told him when they'd had to come up for air. "It's the same for me sometimes. But that's not what today is all about," she added urgently. "They didn't die so that we could forget them. We have to remember."

Ron said nothing for a moment, and Hermione thought at first that he wasn't going to react at all, but then: "Shall we go back, then?" he asked nervously.

"I think we'd better," Hermione agreed, nodding. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Ron replied, and they made their way back up towards the castle and the chaos and the sadness.

The Entrance Hall was even more packed than earlier, with people arriving from all over the country to attend the service and pay their respects to the dead. Hermione and Ron had difficulty navigating their way through the crowd so they could re-enter the Great Hall and find Harry. Hermione craned her neck, her height putting her at a disadvantage when it came to trying to distinguish people. But it turned out that they didn't need to look any further.

"I'd been wondering where you two had got to!" Harry shouted over the noise.

"We were just out—" Ron began.

"I don't want to know," Harry said cheekily over him, earning himself a punch on the arm from an indignant Ron. "Anyway, Andromeda and little Teddy are through there if you want to see them," he told them, gesturing towards the huge wooden doors of the Great Hall. "Be warned, though," he advised them more quietly, "Andromeda looks a lot like—" But he was swept away by Kingsley wanting to ask him something about the press conference and was unable to finish his sentence.

"Shall we go and see them, then?" asked Ron brightly.

"Yeah, why not?" Hermione replied. She'd been looking forward to meeting Remus and Tonks's baby, and although the circumstances were sadder than she'd envisioned, she was excited to see him. They found a way through the crowd, which was getting smaller now as people made their way to their respective destinations.

She had the shock of her life when she entered the Great Hall and saw Bellatrix Lestrange standing there, alive as the day she was born.

Her breathing sped up and became shallow and panicked as her body recalled the last time she had been in contact with Bellatrix - she had nearly died. Anger seethed through her at the sight of the evil, twisted woman standing in front of her in the peak of health. All of this, of course, was before her brain had the chance to register the fact that Bellatrix was dead, and that this woman had lighter brown hair, an altogether much kinder face and a small blue-haired baby in her arms, and before she could stop Ron from drawing his wand—

"Ron! Stop!"

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**A/N: So here, finally, is chapter 9! I feel so mean making you wait so long for this chapter and then leaving you with a cliffhanger... I promise I don't really hate you. :P**

**In fact, I'd just like to say a huge thank you to every single person who has reviewed so far; the feedback I've got on this really has been overwhelming. I'm really close to the 100 mark already, and you've all been so lovely! Life is crazy at the moment, so I wouldn't have anything like the motivation I have to finish this if it wasn't for you guys. So thanks. :D**

**And, as always, I'd also like to say a massive thank you to kci47 for beta reading, and also for helping me when I get stuck (which is quite often...) and for being generally lovely. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

"I'm sorry," Ron said yet again, as Hermione dabbed at the cut above Andromeda's eye. He didn't know what had come over him. Andromeda's resemblance to her older sister was remarkable, and when Ron saw her, instinct really had kicked in. Disturbing scenes flashed before his eyes - the 'wanted' posters plastered across Hogsmeade, Sirius falling through the veil, Hermione screaming as she was brutally tortured - and they overrode all logic.

"Don't worry about it," Andromeda said, waving Hermione away. "I'm fine. And you're hardly the first person who's mistaken me for my sister."

It sounded like there were a lot of emotions present in that last sentence, and it made Ron realise - evil as Bellatrix was, Andromeda Tonks had lost a sister on the same day that Ron Weasley lost a brother.

"I'm sorry about your sister," Hermione said, just as Ron was about to say the same.

"Don't be," Andromeda said wearily, picking up Teddy as he attempted to climb onto the table with the breakfast leftovers. "I lost Bellatrix a long time ago."

"What do you mean by that?" Ron asked, curious.

"She was dead to me the day she joined the Death Eaters."

Ron flinched at the harsh words that had come from the kindly woman. But then he supposed that he would feel the same if he had such an evil, twisted woman for a sister. Andromeda must have been through a lot over the years. And then, to make matters so much worse, she'd lost her daughter and son-in-law as well as her sister. Not long before that, she'd also lost her husband. Ron had thought that his grief for Fred was unbearable, but things were so much worse for Andromeda.

"Mrs Tonks... Andromeda?" Hermione began hesitantly. "If you don't mind me asking... what was Bellatrix like when she was younger?"

"Very much the same, although I was too stupid to notice it," she told them, almost bitterly. She sighed, obviously being assaulted by some unpleasant memories.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Hermione said hurriedly. "I'm sorry. I was just interested."

"No, it's okay," Andromeda assured them. "Bella was always... difficult. She had to have everything exactly how she wanted. And she could never have anyone else taking the spotlight. But I suppose she was never really _cruel_ - unless you count towards house elves, but nobody really seems to count them - until she found out that I was dating Ted."

Hermione, who had looked stricken at the bit about house elves, asked, "What happened?"

"She found us together - in my room, it was stupid of me to let him come there - and she was furious. I made Ted Disapparate at once and I begged her not to tell my mother, but she did. I was thrown out of the house and blasted off the tapestry."

"I'm sorry. That must have been awful," Hermione said sincerely.

Andromeda shrugged. "I was thinking of leaving anyway; I couldn't put up with it there for much longer. But anyway, that's not the worst of what Bellatrix did. She tried her hardest to kill Ted, including one very close shave on our wedding day. She only redoubled her efforts after Dora was born. We lived in terror until she was locked up in Azkaban where she belonged."

Having been on the run for almost a year, Ron could understand what it felt like to be living in terror, constantly having to look over your shoulder for Death Eaters. But Andromeda having her sister after her family for what sounded like the best part of ten years must have been painful as well as terrifying.

Hermione seemed to have run out of things to say; Andromeda didn't look like the sort of person who wanted to be pitied. What were you supposed to say at times like this?

Suddenly, Ron remembered something. "Hey, we met Ted, when we were on the run," he told Andromeda, who looked up sharply. "Well, we didn't exactly _meet_ him..."

Andromeda listened intently as Ron described how they'd heard Ted, Dean and Dirk Cresswell, along with the the two goblins, talking outside the tent.

"We didn't hear that much, but it definitely sounded like Ted was the one keeping everyone going," Ron finished. Hermione nodded her agreement, an unreadable expression on her face.

There was a slight pause, and Ron started to wonder whether he should have told her - was it too painful? "Thank you for telling me that," Andromeda said eventually, to Ron's relief. He'd thought that she would want to know how her husband spent his final days. "This Dean... did he make it?" she asked. "I'd love to talk to him."

"Yeah, he's over there," said Ron, pointing him out. Dean was chatting happily to Seamus and Luna.

"Thank you," Andromeda said, scooping Teddy into her arms and starting to go over to where Dean was. "It was nice meeting both of you at last."

"And you. And sorry about..." Ron said awkwardly, gesturing towards her eye.

"It's nothing, honestly," Andromeda insisted. "I'll see you around."

The sight of little Teddy's smiling face from over Andromeda's shoulder as she retreated made Ron remember the people they hadn't talked about: Tonks and Remus. Other than Fred, they were the two people that died that Ron was closest to. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about them just yet.

He turned to Hermione, who had been very quiet throughout the last exchange.

"That was the day you left, wasn't it?" she asked quietly. "When we heard them talking about the sword."

Ron nodded. "After I left, I thought I was never going to see you and Harry again. I was on the lookout for any signs I could get about what you could be doing. I guess what Andromeda went through is a bit different, and it's a bit late now, but I thought she would want to know all she can about what happened to him."

There was a pause. "I'd completely forgotten about meeting Ted. It scares me that we're forgetting things, Ron." Hermione sighed. "Harry's right. We shouldn't wait to do the interview. We need to remember everything, so that nothing like this war can ever happen again."

"We will," he assured her. "It'll be okay." She was right; it was important that they got their story out into the world so that future generations could learn from it. A thought suddenly occurred to him, though - when they were on the run, they were isolated from the outside world. And even if they hadn't been, the Prophet had been censored. There were probably an awful lot of things that happened during the war that people didn't know about. "Are we the only people being interviewed?" he asked Hermione.

"I don't know, I expect so," she said suspiciously. "I think it's just to tell people about what we were doing while we were on the run."

"It's just... we don't know everything that happened while we were on the run. And most ordinary people probably don't know everything that was going on either," Ron pointed out. "Maybe they should interview more people so they can get the full story. So everyone understands."

Hermione looked at him doubtfully. "I suppose you're right. But they could hardly fit the full story into one report. It would probably take up a whole book."

"Well, write one then."

She laughed. "Very funny."

"No, I'm serious," Ron insisted, suddenly very taken by his idea, which had initially been a joke. "Write a book. Give everyone the full story." He couldn't think of anyone better to do it - everybody knew that Hermione was a meticulous researcher, so she would find all the sources of information in no time at all. And she was more than capable of doing it alongside her NEWTS or whatever she decided to do after the summer.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. I can't write a book," she said, but the hesitation had been there, and there was a thoughtful expression on her face for the next few minutes as Harry returned and told them the schedule for the day. Ron knew that she, like him, was picturing glossy book covers with her name on them displayed in Flourish and Blotts - _The Second Wizarding War: The Full Story_, or something along those lines. He knew that she couldn't say no to a challenge like that, no matter what her initial reaction.

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**A/N: At one point I thought I was never going to finish it, but here's the next chapter! I had quite a lot of writer's block with this one, but once I got going I really enjoyed writing it - I've always thought that Andromeda is a fascinating character, even though we don't see much of her in the books.**

**Thank you again to kci47 for all her help with this chapter! It definitely wouldn't be in its current form without her.**


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